


Frostbite

by jaydenmaeda



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Shuichi, Anal Sex, Breeding, Drugs, Knotting, M/M, Omegaverse, Pair Bonding, Suggested M!preg, omega!ouma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydenmaeda/pseuds/jaydenmaeda
Summary: Kokichi Ouma and Saihara Shuichi are two polar opposites- yet they fit together perfectly. Despite their harmonious relationship as an Alpha and Omega, tensions arise on a particularly strange holiday in Iceland. Will their relationship remain strong, or will these two hopeless romantics buckle under the pressure?
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Saioma - Relationship, saiouma - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	Frostbite

Shuichi Saihara was, for lack of better words, a bit of a slut.

  
  
It wasn’t premeditated, or beneficial, and he felt as though it wasn’t his fault. After all, he was created this way. 

Jehovah, Allah, Jah, the supreme being of the cosmos, had seen all that the universe had to offer, all forms of life in all timelines, and he decided that humankind could only prosper with an ingrained hierarchy of animalistic biological roles. 

Being an Alpha wasn’t easy- but, sometimes, things just happened out of your control. 

Yes, from birth, the fates decide that we humans are all bound to our genetic servitude, forced to maintain that imperative desire for survival, lest we wither away and become mere byproducts of this phenomenon we call life. 

It was depressing, really. Like insects, we adapt an algorithm that prevents our own demise and preserves that crucial premise every species needs in order to thrive: purpose. 

Though insects exist in a way that radiates simplicity, one cannot help but envy the purity of their spirits. Unmarred by grotesque desires of the flesh, they reside closer to God than we ever could.

Growing up, Shuichi had a fairly easy life. His mother and father loved him dearly, showering him with the praise and adoration which he craved. Subsequently, he found himself to be a respectable and rather stable adolescent. 

Well, compared to his little Omega boyfriend.

  
  
Kokichi Ouma. World-renowned for his work as an apprentice surgeon, he once belonged to the most prestigious University in all of Japan.

  
  
But the cold hands of fate had twisted his strings too far.

One failed penectomy was all it took to send him spiralling out of control. The anguish he felt inside had coagulated, filling his minuscule frame to the brim. Pain was something he had always known, but never at this magnitude. His resolve crumbled away against his own petite fingertips.

Though he lacked any genetic predisposition, Kokichi quickly became a victim of substance abuse. His compassion and enthusiasm dissipated instantaneously, substituted with unbridled rage and deceit.

Ketamine, Cocaine, Methamphetamines, Adderall, you name it. He didn’t give a flying fuck about anyone. All that mattered was that he got his fix, and he got it fast. 

Shuichi often lamented on the foundations of their relationship. 

The blossoming plumes of romance ensued upon the eve of their first meeting. As fate would have it, Kokichi was scheduled to complete Shuichi’s ass implant surgery. Though it was significantly more common for an Omega to have this procedure, he couldn’t help but crave recognition from other human beings for having a fat ass.

Adorned with his surgical garments, Kokichi looked very cute and sweet. It may have been a direct result of his heat, but Shuichi, halfway under anaesthesia, had bolted upright from the operating table and fucked Kokichi in the janitor’s closet.

They had been dating ever since.

Shuichi tried his best, but managing a boyfriend with a drug problem wasn’t easy. The homophobia, which Japan was well-known for instigating, didn’t help much either. 

All of these thoughts- musings of the past, and questions for the future- they all spiralled within the fleshy canopies of his brain. 

\--- --- ---

Shuichi sighed, stroking Kokichi’s head as their flight came to an end. 

It had been a tough few months, but Shuichi felt mature enough to make a decision that would benefit their relationship. 

_‘Iceland? You want us to go to Iceland? Really, Shuichi-kun?’_

_‘Hey, just trust me. I think it’ll be a good change for us.’_

The flight was beyond tiring. It had taken two days to reach the Reykjanes Peninsula after their departure from Osaka. With a mere two stops, his little boyfriend was quivering and sweating with exhaustion. 

“Would you like a sip of my Caprisun, honey?” He murmured, tousling the lilac strands of hair deftly between his fingers.

  
  
“Shut up cracker”

  
  
Shuichi flinched. “I… What?”

“Ah! Sorry, Shuichi-kun. My pussy is just so empty and deprived that it’s driving me crazy. This flight was a mistake. You were a mistake. That’s my hypothesis, anyway. I think I have sex bugs.” He muttered nonchalantly, burying his face in Shuichi’s armpit.

  
  
Shuichi shuddered, eyelids fluttering at the sensation of Kokichi’s tongue as it probed the damp fabric. “Your sweat smells so naughty.” 

His face went red in embarrassment. “I’m not sweaty!” He protested.

Kokichi smirked. “We both know you’re lying, Shuichi-kun. Your smelly rancid armpits are rubbing all over my face. I’m going to stink for weeks, haha!”

Squirming with discomfort, Shuichi prayed that his little vixen would calm down once they arrived at the Villa. 

\--- --- ---

Though the trip had been laborious and bleak, he couldn’t ignore the warmth emanating from his heart at the sight of their temporary home. A secluded luxury, the three-story Villa measured a hefty 630 meters squared, valued at ten thousand dollars per night.

  
  
Materialism was not familiar to Shuichi. He had never really been envious of grandeur and luxury- satisfaction was easily obtainable with less effort, after all.

  
  
Though it displeased his mate thoroughly, Kokichi had taken it upon himself to choose the most expensive building he could find. 

_“It’s too much, baby girl...”_ Shuichi had whimpered, but his efforts were futile. 

After tipping their Uber driver five bucks, the busty couple made their way to the porch, which was peppered with snow. Adorned with the touch of modern architecture, the Villa encapsulated all of the glory one would find in a Classical painting. 

“Do you like it, Shuichi-san? I chose this one because it’s white, like you! Now no one will be able to find you!” He screamed, galloping to the front doors quadrupedally. 

Kokichi’s quadrupedalism was a disability of sorts, though he paved through his life with the utmost care to hide it. He was ashamed, rightfully so. His family had always been plagued by the desire to know why their darling son was physically prone to walk on four legs.

  
  
However… Thinking about it, Shuichi couldn’t deny the full extent of Kokichi’s primate-like responses in daily life. Blinded by rage, he once shat inside of a patient’s open wound, rubbed his ass cheeks against the crimson folds of her organs, and stitched it back up. 

A few months back, Shuichi had flushed several bags of Cocaine down the toilet. He woke up the next morning with seven broken toes and a large chunk of flesh missing from one of his enlarged testicles.

That didn’t mean Kokichi was a monster- they were pair-bonded, after all. He was just different from other Omegas. He was… Troubled.

\--- --- ---

Shuichi woke in twilight, his body doused with the rich hues of mauve and carmine. Clouded was his mind, and, if he focused hard enough, there was an impending sense of doom expanding in his stomach.

Regardless, he had slept fairly well. 

Mired, he turned to face a rather empty blanket. “Babe…?” Cautiously feeling around the duvet made him realise that he was, in fact, alone. 

The stirrings of an oncoming rut beckoned him out of bed. Shuichi was reluctant to acknowledge his own anxiety at the absence of his mate, but, as his desperation increased, so did the size of his cock. 

Subtle footsteps transitioned into hasty stomps as he made his way down to the lowest floor of the house. How ironic, he thought, that the conspicuous elegance of such pleasing surroundings would nurture his premeditated malice. Everything, the gold fixtures and ornaments, the skilful renditions of classical artwork, chandeliers and faux couches- it all blended together, crudely, to produce the colour of vomit. 

The seven layers of hell reeked of this same flyblown opulence. How edifying it was to be encompassed by such sanguine practicalities, though Shuichi could not ignore the malodorous extent of his emotions. 

The sight of the front doors, wide open, made Shuichi stop in his tracks. 

Sure enough, little impudent Kokichi Ouma resided with his head buried in the snow. He wasn’t sure if it was a direct result of his drug use, but Kokichi had this perverse hunger for complicated, insane alternatives in random situations. This was likely a demonstration of his woebegone state. 

Shuichi swallowed, “Kokichi...San…?”

He retracted. Adagio, he turned. Lento. His face… Obscured by unflattering patches of snow. Waiting. 

  
  


The snow cracked, as if to illuminate a smile. 

  
  


“Небеса кровоточат.” He whispered, inching forwards slightly.

  
  


Shuichi frowned. “EXCUSE me?” 

  
  


“Me duele el trasero,” he continued, his fingers visibly blue. 

  
  


“What are you… Is that Spanish?” 

  
  


“Cuando tu cadáver sea bajado en tu tumba, voy a marcarlo.” 

  
  


Blood trickled out of Kokichi’s nostrils. 

  
  


“Haha, I’m just fucking with you, Shuichi-kun. It’s crack.”

  
  
“Uh… What?”

  
  
“The snow. It’s crack. It’s aaaaaaaaaaall crack. All of it.”

  
  


“I knew there was something off.” Though he was unable to understand a lick of what the little smegma stain was saying, his mind wandered to the sombre corpse of Socrates. He, like many formidable philosophers before him, believed that we associate what is popular with what is right. 

  
  


Kokichi likely turned to drugs as a result of societal pressure. His failure to conform to the expectations within his career was a deeply traumatic event in his life, and it destroyed his confidence. His mind, burdened by the stress, likely came to the conclusion that drug use would restore equanimity in his life. 

  
  
But the human brain was far from perfect. 

  
  


“Hmmmmm? Off?” He murmured nonchalantly. There was a slutty undertone in his voice which betrayed his lack of sincerity. 

  
  


“Do my feelings mean nothing to you? What the hell is wrong with you?” Shuichi barked, fighting to quell the rage within his muscular frame. 

  
  


“What do you mean, Shuichi-kun?” 

  
“You promised to go clean for this trip. I literally didn’t ask you for anything else other than your sobriety.” 

  
  


“Are you crying?”

  
  


Tears were unavoidable at times like this. The pendulum had swung too far, and Shuichi felt as helpless as a newborn. 

  
  
“I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  
  
“Stop looking so sad, Shuichi-kun. Seeing you depressed is making me horny.” He panted. Shuichi could only watch as his boyfriend crawled towards him on all fours. Though he was reluctant to admit it, the powerful hormones emanating from Kokichi’s sweat glands were making his vision blurry. 

  
  


“You want to feel better, right?” He murmured tenderly, his hand palming the dormant bulge in his pants. “You want me to clean your pathetic cock with my asshole? Ah, I didn’t really want to tell you, but you’ve obviously figured out I’m in heat. Your cock is getting so huge, haha!” 

  
  
Kokichi had removed his own pants before he could respond, spreading his legs to give Shuichi a full view of his lubricated asshole. “I feel so empty without your big hard cock drilling into me. Do you want to scent mark me? Yeah? You wanna spray your load all over my face while I suck on those fat balls?”

  
  


Biological evolution, as complex as it was, had crafted a species of corrupted beasts. We, humans, have a basic foundation of morals instilled within our genetic material, and yet, the congruent of lust overrides any previous virtues we may have held. 

  
  
We are, indeed, deeply flawed creatures. 

  
  


As his eyes focused on the gaping hole before him, Shuichi found his own mind was swarming with convoluted thoughts of God’s fallen angel. Although one was a compilation of historical superstition and the other was a crackhead, Lucifer and Kokichi did share a fair amount of resemblance. 

  
  


Indeed to clarify, Kokichi had been cast out of his haven in the medical community. This, combined with his frenzied drug addiction, dealt massive amounts of damage to their personal funds. Shuichi was adamant that this holiday would probably be their last. 

  
  


“I don’t regret it. Any of it. My only mistake is that I got caught, Shuichi-kun.”

  
  


He couldn’t take it anymore. The lust. The drugs. The lies. The debt. No, he _wouldn’t,_ stand for it any longer. In one deft movement, he had removed his own boxers, allowing his twelve-inch cock to spring free. Pre-cum framed the head of his dick, which was flushed harshly when contrasted with the snow. 

  
  
Lulled by his soft coos and moans, Shuichi buried his fat dick inside of Kokichi’s gaping hole, which sucked him in eagerly. “A-ah! I love this fat cock! My slick! Do you like my slick?!” He gasped, though Shuichi was too invested in his rut to comprehend what he was saying.

  
  


They gradually built up a rhythm, defined by the sloppy collision of their hips. The warmth wrapped around his cock deliciously, prompting a series of grunts to fall from Shuichi’s mouth. 

  
  


Stiffening with biological certainty, Shuichi froze as he felt his knot swelling inside of his mate. “Give me your babies! I want your babies, you stupid gay bitch! Fill my ass up with your cum!” He moaned, squeezing his wet asshole around Shuichi’s swelling cock. 

  
  
They were together, finally. But it was more than physical. As they lay fused amongst the snow, their skin adapting a bluish tinge, Shuichi felt his heart ebb. If death awaited them, then it awaited them together. 

  
  


Their bodies had already become familiar with the violence of this frozen wasteland, and so they waited, wrapped in each other’s arms, Kokichi sighing as he was pumped with litres upon litres of cum, for they were needed in the ninth circle of Hell- Lucifer beckoned them so, his limbs trembling beneath the icy shackles which pervaded his body.


End file.
